


Some time some day

by imahira



Category: Rookies - Morita Masanori & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Bathtub Sex, Canon - Manga, M/M, Mentions of Vore, MerMay, Mermaid Sex, Non-Human Genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imahira/pseuds/imahira
Summary: Imaoka finds a merman in his bathtub and makes the poor financial decision to keep him.





	Some time some day

**Author's Note:**

> Imaoka tried really hard to make this a hard vore fic but I managed to defeat him
> 
> (note the consent in this and the other mermaid fic might be a bit fucked from the start since the conceit is that mermaids aren't familiar with sex since their dicks only pop out on land. imaoka does attempt to explain the concept though)

"I want fish," said the mermaid sitting in Imaoka's bathtub. He punctuated it with a splash of his tail. His name was Hiracchi—he'd given a different one, but he was too cute to be called anything else.

"This is fish," Imaoka said, still holding up the mackerel on a pair of chopsticks he'd decided to sacrifice to a set of very pointy mermaid teeth.

"This is day-old garbage," Hiracchi said. "Where I come from it'd be floating up top."

"Well, the fresh stuff is expensive. You've been running my water bill way up."

"I'm not talking the kind of fresh you can carry in here on a plate, I'm talking fresh- _caught_. Alive." He sniffed at the air, gills fluttering slightly. "Only thing that smells alive in here is..."

Imaoka reached under his chin quickly. Mermaids didn't seem to care about being touched even though they were naked all over, but he was doing his best to stay respectful even with a half naked man in his bathtub. Hiracchi grunted and stopped trying to talk. He settled in for a chin rub, eyes closed and the tip of his tail flapping a little.

He'd been in the bathtub for a week, and he was the most beautiful thing Imaoka had ever seen. He was big and muscular enough to wrestle Imaoka to the ground if he tried, and he had a long gray sharkskin tail that barely fit in the bathtub. He'd been rude and bossy from the second he showed up, and he was very sure of what he wanted—which unfortunately was mostly just fish. Imaoka had hauled the old laptop in a couple of times to show him movies, but the movies hadn't sparked much interest in human life. Mostly he'd just been interested in which animals were eatable, and why Imaoka could only bring him small strips of chicken, duck, cow and so on. Learning about farms and stores interested him enough to explain how the mermaid practice of hunting down each meal was much better. He was, he reported, widely acknowledged as the best hunter currently swimming—although Imaoka hadn't heard any complaints about having his food presented on a plate.

Eyes still closed thoughtfully, Hiracchi went on anyway. "Is you."

He'd rejected all the mammal meat he'd tried, claiming he could taste the fur. He'd said the same thing about the duck, and Imaoka hadn't bothered explaining feathers. Hiracchi must have seen seagulls at least _once_ , but he didn't feel like explaining how animal fur and bird fur were different. Honestly, he wasn't really sure himself.

"Humans are mammals," he said. "You don't like mammals."

"Nice try. You've got the same top half as a mermaid. I bet I could eat one of you if I wanted."

"Could you?" Imaoka tried not to picture himself on a plate. "Do you eat other mermaids? Are your teeth sharp enough? I think the bones would be hard to finish. We have a lot of bones."

"Um," Hiracchi said, looking unnerved. "I didn't really... mean that part. Not exactly how it sounds. We joke a lot underwater."

Oh, god, he couldn't even pretend to follow through on a threat. He was the perfect man. Imaoka tried really hard not to imagine himself dangling off a hook, ready to be eaten. He was doing his best to be a polite host. The human race might be counting on him to make a good impression instead of getting all horny for the first mermaid to appear on land.

Not that he was planning on showing his mermaid off to anyone else. They could go and get their own if they wanted one, but this one had picked him—or at least God or somebody had picked this bathtub for him to show up in; he didn't seem too clear on how he'd wound up in it. But there was some reason he was here, and even if there wasn't any reason it didn't matter that much. Because he _was_ here, in Imaoka's bathtub, right where he belonged.

"A joke," Hiracchi repeated. "Like when you say you have friends."

Imaoka realized he'd been spacing out—like he used to when he was trying to decide whether Hiracchi was more beautifully gorgeous or ruggedly handsome. "I didn't say I had friends."

"Well," Hiracchi said, starting to swing his gorgeous fish half from side to side, drumming it against the sides of the bath—that was how Imaoka had worked it out, the fish half was gorgeous and the man half was handsome— "that's real sad, but it doesn't put fish inside me."

Imaoka wondered if that was some kind of underwater proverb. "Don't thump the sides. It's kind of cheap."

"I'm a powerful being from a world beyond your imagining and I can do what I want." He added a few pounds on the outside with his spread hands.

The main reason it was hard to imagine life underwater was because his guest refused to tell him anything. "Doesn't sound like you can do _everything_."

Hiracchi stopped his assault on the tub's integrity. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't sound like you really do anything scary."

"I can breathe in twice as many places as you can!"

"That's not scary." Hiracchi seemed to think the world was about a half-and-half water to land ratio—that _was_ a little scary—and Imaoka hadn't looked up the real number yet. There was too much other stuff to explain. He'd probably count all the water as a win, but Imaoka wasn't sure how to tell him that there were way more humans than mermaids.

"I can see in the dark. You guys don't like the dark." Then, undaunted: "And I could eat you. If I really wanted to."

"But you're not gonna do anything in the dark. Humans are just big steaks. You hated the steak." Imaoka held out the last slice of mackerel, showing him how much it wasn't a steak.  
"You showed me what that thing came off of! It was some big hairy thing—with four horrible legs. You are _not_ related to that thing and you're trying to trick me into settling for the same old stuff." He snapped the mackerel up along with a mouthful of chopstick and swallowed defiantly.

Imaoka looked at the splintered remains of the chopsticks, caught between imagining what mermaid teeth would do to fish bones and wondering if switching to plastic would be a health risk, and he was caught by surprise when a hand seized his wrist. He dropped the chopsticks, more flustered than scared, and froze, distantly aware of Hiracchi tossing the chopsticks out of the bath with an irritated sound.

Turning it over, he licked Imaoka's palm experimentally, then went on to the wrist. _He hasn't tasted skin before_ , was Imaoka's first thought. _Just scales and the stuff inside._ He'd noticed—and it was hard not to keep noticing with his arm being grabbed like this—that mermaid skin didn't sweat. It was very smooth and a little cooler than human skin.

Reaching the upper limits of how far a sleeve could be rolled up, Hiracchi made an irritated noise and ripped it open with his teeth, with the air of someone finding a door in their way that was closed but not locked.

He might have smelled like the ocean when he'd first showed up, but there wasn't any of that left now. His hair was brushing Imaoka's hand and it didn't even smell salty. There was just the slightly mildewy scent of the bathroom lingering around them the way it had all week. His breath was coming in short, sharp inhales and pants, and he was holding Imaoka's arm up by his neck, trying to get at the wrist and throat at the same time. The spots where ladies put perfume on, Imaoka thought dizzily. _They must smell good_.  
  
_Or_ , his brain said, a little louder, _he's looking for arteries._

Imaoka pulled back, which, with the hottest guy in the world gripping his arms and licking him, was the hardest thing he'd ever done on a few different levels. "Um," he said, barely louder than a squeak. "You might not wanna keep going?"

"Yeah, I do." His eyes were a little glassy. "You're soft. And salty."

"If you eat me, I can't bring you any more fish."

"I'm not eating. I'm tasting." He tugged Imaoka in closer. "How come you're so warm?" It sounded like an accusation.

Imaoka made one last ditch effort to get away, his free left arm splashing pathetically into the cold bathwater—where it touched something that made Hiracchi jerk back and drop him, his whole body startling like he'd been jabbed with a cattle prod. Imaoka struggled with the edge of the tub for a second and regained some kind of balance, one arm resting on the edge as he tried to make sure his nose wasn't bleeding from how hard he was blushing. It wasn't, and he noticed absently that both his arms were still attached. Then he turned his attention to whatever he'd just touched. He knew instinctively what it had to be, but he'd been so sure it didn't exist that it still hadn't sunk in what it was.

It was poking out of the water a little bit. The rest was visible through the clear water, a tiny bit separated, as if the top bit was sprouting on its own from the water's surface.  
  
It looked like a flower, almost, except with a weird sexual feeling to it. A sexy flower. Not one in full bloom, but the head, at the end of a thin gray shaft, looked like it was made of some closed up petals. Kind of like a fancy sex toy, but so fancy it might actually bloom a little if you touched it right. A really symbolic kind of sex toy that reminded you of the power to create life.

They'd both been staring at it for a few moments when Hiracchi grabbed it, seizing at the part poking out of the water like it was a leaping fish. He squeezed his hands down over where it'd come out—a spot that must be some kind of seam usually, blending in so well it was still hard to see any difference—trying unsuccessfully to press the whole thing down. "It hurts! What the hell did you do?!"

"I'm pretty sure you did that yourself." Imaoka leaned over the bathtub for a better look, forgetting all about his struggle not to nut in his pants. "It's really, um..." He tried to come up with a good word. Was it okay to be openly horny now that he knew mermaids were fully equipped? Getting licked all over his upper half seemed like a pretty good signal, but maybe they expected more steps in between. "It's... uh." His mouth just kind of hung open.

"It hurts," Hiracchi whimpered again. "It's all hot." He pushed down harder and yelped.

"Don't push," Imaoka begged. Not only was he getting sympathy pains, but he was dying to be gentle with it himself.

Hiracchi did the kind of squirming motion that would have brought one thigh up to squish his cock against something if he'd been human. But there was nothing there and instead he looked to Imaoka, helpless and accusing and miserable, and Imaoka felt pretty much honorbound as a host to get his pants off and let his ass be that something.

It _was_ hot. Temperature-wise—and also the other way, but the temperature was more surprising. It slid in like something wet, but the heat of something alive felt jarring with the cooling bath water outside him, and even beyond that, Imaoka was sure a human cock wouldn't feel this warm inside him. Even though he had no experience to compare it to. Maybe it had to be because it was always inside, he thought, and then he didn't really want to keep concentrating on the temperature kind of hotness.

"Are you gonna fill me with eggs?" he managed, gasping a little. "‘Cause—I mean, you can, but I've got a job, so I—maybe I should make some calls before you do?"

"I don't know," Hiracchi said. He sounded like he might be about to cry, if he'd been a human. "I don't know what it does!"

Imaoka didn't actually want to get out of the tub, or do anything but spend the rest of his life with warm mermaid cock up his ass, but he wanted to do the right thing for the eggs. "You can do whatever you need to," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm just making sure, you know, if I can't walk because I'm stuffed full of your eggs, and you have to breed me a bunch more, I should order some food. So we don't starve to—you don't _die_ once you're done breeding, do you?" He was suddenly horrified, remembering an elementary school unit on salmon. "This isn't gonna kill you, is it?"

"I don't know," Hiracchi whimpered. He'd been looking more and more panicked as Imaoka talked. "I never heard about this happening to anybody ever! I don't wanna breed anyone, I just wanted you to stop killing me with shitty food and now you're eating me really slow with your other mouth."

"It's not a mouth," Imaoka said, trying to start with the most basic misunderstanding.

"You're keeping me here to eat me," Hiracchi moaned. "Bit by bit. I'm supposed to be the one that eats stuff! And I'm not supposed to make eggs!"

"It's _not_ a mouth," Imaoka said, louder. "It's—um, it's kind of a pocket. Like a seahorse pouch. Kind of." That was kind of a fib, but he didn't feel like the whole truth was worth the tantrum it would cause.

"I'm not falling for your lies."

Imaoka put his hands on the mermaid's shoulders, hoping it would calm him down—also, they were really nice shoulders— "Look," he said, "you can take it out if you want. The whole thing's still there." God, was it ever.

Hiracchi didn't start thrashing or anything, but he didn't seem to want to make eye contact either. He rolled his head to one side and shifted a little the way he did when the water sat still for too long. "It still hurts," he finally muttered. "And your stupid water's too cold."

Monster men that appeared in your apartment were really supposed to just push you down and fuck you. And it was adorable how bad this one was at the whole thing, and the whole prissy, sulky act was adorable too, but it was cuter when he did it with the food. There was a point where it just turned into blue balls. If he was a total bottom, this wasn't going to work out too well, because he didn't seem to have anything back there to work with.

"So, um," Imaoka said. "Like I said, it's not a mouth. It's just this other thing I have. You can do whatever you want with it. With me."

Hiracchi was leaning to one side over the edge of the tub, dripping on the floor, with his arms draped over his face. He was obviously peeking through them to make sure he was still the center of attention, and his tail gave a twitch at Imaoka's last words.

"I'm just trying to help. You're my guest." _And insanely needy and hot_. "I was kind of just guessing about the eggs. I think... your, um, people don't migrate and have their babies in rivers and then die, right?"

Hiracchi considered for a few moments, like this was something that might have escaped his notice. "No."

"Okay," Imaoka said, relieved. "I think this is just gonna feel really good, then."

"Good?" Head up now, Hiracchi's eyes narrowed. "Good for who?"

"For both of us!" Imaoka reluctantly let go of the last shreds of the hot, dominating monster boy fantasy. Obviously his dream man only came in the virginal idiot model. "Like when you were licking me. Good like that." He scritched under Hiracchi's chin. "Like this. But way more."

Hiracchi's gills fluttered. "Mnph," he said.

"This is something humans do to feel good. I think we have some parts that fit together."

"Mm," Hiracchi said thoughtfully, shutting his eyes.

"You could probably do it with your hands," Imaoka said, feeling suddenly guilty about having a dick inside him while he was explaining to its owner that sex existed. "But, um... I kind of want to help you? You're really, um, handsome, and if you were a human you'd probably be a supermodel or something—I mean, you're really rude all the time, so maybe not, but I think people let you be mean when you're hot—"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hiracchi interrupted. "Shut up. It's gross, I'm not touching it. You take care of it if you know so damn much." His eyes were still closed, and he pushed his chin forward demandingly for more attention. At the same time, he lifted his lower half up with just as much expectation.

"I can't do both at once," Imaoka said.

Hiracchi opened his eyes and leveled a glare at him. "You humans aren't good for much, are you?"

"I think I know which one is gonna feel better," Imaoka told him. "Just, um..." He tried to picture how this was going to work with him sitting and facing Hiracchi. His knees were already starting to cramp underneath him. "I don't think I can do the right kind of moving in this position."

"Can't catch fish, can't breathe in the water, can't _move_ in the water—"

"It's a really complicated kind of moving," Imaoka said. "There's physics and stuff. Don't complain if you're not gonna help."

The petals were separated a little now. They were ridged at the edges and dripping, with stuff that didn't look like it was entirely bathwater. As he stepped out of the bath, Imaoka reflected that that was probably why it'd gone in so easy the first time.

The flower head was curled up again. Hiracchi eyed it suspiciously, but Imaoka was relieved.

"That's good," he told Hiracchi. "Like, when you put your hand in someone, you don't open it up unti—"

"My **hand**?!?"

He was getting way too good at using his lungs. Imaoka made up his mind to avoid the more advanced parts of human sexuality until they'd covered the basics.

"I just don't wanna shove the whole thing in while it's trying to open up."

He put a hand over his own hard-on, which he knew didn't make any sense at this point, but it felt more awkward now that he was standing up. Not that Hiracchi was paying much attention. His own hand was creeping closer to the flowery head, like a cat stalking its prey, as if he was hoping to catch it off guard.

"Let me sit on you for a second. I won't squish it. And you better be careful how you grab it." He really meant that. If it was built like a flower it had to be even more delicate than a human dick. Also it spent all its time inside, like a tongue or something.

Hiracchi muttered something. He obviously didn't like stopping just because he'd been told to, so Imaoka arranged himself in what couldn't really be called Hiracchi's lap, legs carefully leaving plenty of room around the cock, to give him an excuse to give up on touching it.

For a few seconds he was distracted by the feeling of fish tailfin on the soles of his feet. He'd never gotten up the nerve to touch the tail part before, but it didn't feel like shark skin at all. Which was lucky, since he hadn't done too much thinking before sitting down on it and promising to let its owner screw him.

He tried to picture getting screwed from below while sitting down. The problem was he'd never seen a mermaid in actual motion, so he wasn't sure if that would take the kind of muscles it would for a human. There wasn't much he hadn't taken in about Hiracchi's muscles at this point, but the part where they turned into tail was hard to imagine. He also wasn't sure if it was polite to grab the side fins that were in just the right spot for grabbing.

"Maybe bend me over the edge," he suggested cautiously. What if he grabbed the side fins and they _ripped_? That would be horrible. And really awkward to explain to emergency services, not to mention the landlord.

"I'm not feeling anything different. How long does this whole thing take?"

"We're almost starting," Imaoka reassured him.

" _Starting_? Is this what you humans spend all your time on?" — _Not as much as we'd like_ , Imaoka thought of saying— "No wonder you're such shitty hunters. Where's that spot from before, I don't see anything."

Imaoka showed him.

There was a silence. "I don't like that," Hiracchi said at last, sounding shaken.

"We all have them. Could you hurry up and put your thing in? I can't see to—mm!" It went in pretty easy again. Imaoka was pleased to see that monster porn was as convenient in real life as it was online.

"This isn't me saying I approve of your decisions down there."

"Could you please stop talking about it," Imaoka said. "We still need to figure how hard you should..." How did you explain thrusting to someone who didn't know anything about sex? "Well, I guess it's like when you swim? You have to move back and forth but not go anywhere. Do you know how to..."

The tail-slash-midsection gave a twitch. A hum traveled through him and the tub thrummed in agreement.

"Wow," he said, a little breathless. But Hiracchi gave a disgusted grunt.

"Getting soft sitting in here."

He definitely wasn't talking about the flower head.

It was weird having something in there with a bulb at the top and the rest so much skinnier than... certain other stuff Imaoka had tried, but it wasn't like he had to worry about it getting stuck inside.

"You were talking about me being handsome," Hiracchi said, a little anxious, trying to distract himself from his muscle tone.

"You're kind of like an angel," Imaoka said. "I don't know if boys say that to other... um, to anyone, where you're from," he added, feeling shy again suddenly, like he still hadn't explained everything.

"Everyone says it to me all the time," Hiracchi said. "You can keep going, though."

"It must not mean the same thing," Imaoka mused, looking down at the bathroom floor. There was water all over it. He was probably going to have to mop, and run the tap a whole bunch until the bath was full again. "Up here it's a compliment."

"Shut up." But he was wriggling with excitement and his feelings didn't seem all that hurt.

The pace was slow at first, and Imaoka's armpits hurt from hanging over the side of the tub, but as Hiracchi settled in with a shaky hiss he found himself being hauled back into the tub, into the seated position he hadn't been sure about, and everything got a lot faster—maybe mermaids swam on their backs sometimes, he thought—and he did actually feel something blooming inside him. Something near the tip, his overwhelmed brain told him, poking at something else inside him and pressing like it had a job to do. That was the last real thought he had for a while, except that his knee was probably going to bruise, slamming into the side of the tub like that. He didn't care, though.

* * *

"Did you like it?"

"Uh-huh," Hiracchi said meekly.

He was back to the licking again, this time the back of Imaoka's ear, and Imaoka didn't have the energy to be concerned. This was probably the closest he was getting to a kiss tonight, and Hiracchi was calmer now, anyway. Imaoka took the chance to lace his fingers into the hands around his waist--both of them--and he didn't seem to mind.

He felt a tug on his hair. "Ugh! This part's terrible."

" _You_ have hair." He had a lot of it. It was staying dry since he'd been in the bathtub, but there was no way it didn't get in his face when he was surfacing. Imaoka wondered if mermaids ever put their hair in ponytails.

"I don't taste like you do! How come the hair doesn't taste like the rest of you?"

"I don't know." Imaoka thought. "I guess ‘cause it doesn't sweat. I think maybe girls have fancy shampoos that make it taste good."

"What's sweat?" Hiracchi was snuffling into his neck now, trying to get under his arms, and Imaoka wondered nervously if mermaids actually got more revved up after they came.  
"It's this stuff we... I guess it makes us salty. It only comes out of our skin."

Hiracchi was silent for a few moments. "Nah," he said then. "You've got more hair in here and it's real sw—ow!"

"Those are private spots," Imaoka told him, arms clamped tightly to his sides.

Hiracchi pulled both his hands back so he could pretend his nose was hurt. "How come?" he demanded, his voice muffled. "What do /they/ make you do?"

"Nothing!" Actually, he'd seen a few pornos where--but that fell under advanced human sexuality, and he hadn't even explained porn yet. "I bet you wouldn't sniff another mermaid there."

"Why would I want to?"

It was true that mermaids didn't seem to smell like anything in particular. Actually, Imaoka wasn't sure if you could smell anything underwater. But he also wasn't sure he liked being an object of interest just because humans happened to have unusual armpits. It made everything feel a lot less special.

Besides, it was annoying to find that he didn't know why exactly armpits were still a private zone after he'd already showed everything else to someone he'd known for a week.

"What's _that_?"

Imaoka almost couldn't believe he was hearing this, but it wasn't really out of line with the past week. "That's... my penis? The human version?"

"Looks like a sea cucumber." It seemed like that should be a compliment where he came from, but he didn't look impressed.

"How did you not notice it while I was sitting on your cock?"

"Lemme see mine again," Hiracchi demanded. "I bet it's cooler than yours."

"Yours went back inside." Imaoka looked down at the smooth shark-like skin to see if he could find its home, but the water made it impossible. "I can try getting it back out later."

"Why later? Why not now?"

"You should get some rest," Imaoka said. "Trust me."

"Well, what's this hair for? You're not showing it to any—what the hell are these?!"

"Those are for later." Imaoka pried the hand off his balls and tried to stand up, hoping his legs weren't too unsteady.

Hiracchi's grip tightened around his waist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Humans don't like being wet all the time."

"I'm sleepy," Hiracchi said, as if that was a really decisive argument. "On both sides of my head. That's not supposed to happen either. So you have to stay and make sure I don't drown."

"I can do that outside the bathtub."

"I'm keeping you invested," Hiracchi said, squeezing even tighter.

It did sort of make sense that predators would think about it like that. Imaoka had a vague feeling of concern about being dragged underwater by a sleeping merman, but this one didn't seem that much stronger than a human. Still, he didn't really want to drown in his own bathtub.

"You're not acting too sleepy."

"I'm panicking! I'm afraid for my life!"

"I have to drain the tub anyway. You can just sleep without any water if you're that scared."

Hiracchi looked at him like he'd been offered his own tail to eat. "You _are_ trying to kill me."

"You can't sleep in your own... whatever your dick makes." Imaoka made another effort to stand. "What if I promise to hold your hand while you sleep? Like otters."

Hiracchi held on, digging his chin into Imaoka's shoulder. "What the hell's an otter?"

"They're little animals who sleep on their backs in the water. They hold each other's hands so they don't float away."

"Sounds like an easy snack."

"They're not snacks. They're very heartwarming animals. I always wanted to grow up and be an otter." Imaoka knew he was being difficult on purpose, but it was hard to let this one go. "You know, you owe me for showing you what to do with your dick."

"I would've figured it out."

"You were scared of it."

"I was seconds away from figuring it out!" But he let go a little, and whether or not there was any actual gratitude behind it, he didn't protest when Imaoka managed to squirm free and stand up. He held his tongue while Imaoka started draining the tub and reached for a towel. Then he spoke. "Bring me some otters. I'm ready to try some new meats."

"I wouldn't bring you otters even if I could find some to buy." Realizing he was grabbing at air, Imaoka remembered he'd had to move all the towels out of the bathroom because Hiracchi kept splashing water everywhere. He grabbed for his clothes, tried to fold them for a second, then gave up and scrunched them up against his chest. "Anyway, they're all furry. You wouldn't like them."

"Maybe I _do_ like some furry stuff! You've got all that h—" He cut himself off abruptly. "Get out! I'm sick of all you land animals!"

Imaoka shut the door behind him, both to let Hiracchi recover from the embarrassment, and because he was groping around on the floor for something to throw. Refilling the bathtub could wait until the tantrum was finished.


End file.
